


Ballet Is My Playground

by Mysterycheerio



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, And what he wants is to support peter in his ballet, BAMF Peter Parker, Ballet, Ballet Dancer Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Dancer Peter Parker, Fluff, Gen, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, No Sex, No Smut, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Sassy Peter, Teacher Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24736051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysterycheerio/pseuds/Mysterycheerio
Summary: No Smut. No Angst. No Death.(as I've been told i kill peter off too much)Just fluff.Just peter teaching ballet and the Avengers being amazed at him teach balletI dont even think there's swearing in this lmaoThis is based off my own ballet experience (yes, I do da ballet), but each class differs so yee.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Original Character(s), Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 31
Kudos: 398





	Ballet Is My Playground

**Author's Note:**

> And yes, we do have a grouchy caretaker. His name is Mike.
> 
> Pronunciations of the French in the end notes.

_Ding._

Peter groaned as he heard his phone ding with a text. He knew he should check it, but frankly, he was too damn tired. Besides, he had ballet in the morning.

Perhaps he could just smother himself with a pillow.

That would be counter-productive.

Sometimes, he hated logic.

He groaned again, turning to the side where his phone was laying in his bedside table. He picked it up and turned it on, his eyes shooting open and sitting up when he realized who it was from.

His ballet instructor.

_Madame Rose: Hello, Peter. I’m sorry its such short notice, but I can’t make it to the practice. Could you take over again?_

_Peter: It’s no problem Madame. The kids were lovely last time._

_Madame Rose: okay. I have only a few class today, but it is at seven am to twelve pm and I should warn you that I’ve been told some new people will be participating._

_Peter: oh cool, have a nice day, madame. Hope you’re okay._

_Madame Rose: Goodbye Peter._

He sighed, and looked at the clock. Five am.

Looks like he was getting up now.

He didn’t mind helping his instructor out, in fact, he loved helping his fellow students dance (although none of them really saw him as a student anymore; he’d covered so many classes and demonstrated. Besides, everyone knew Madame Rose was training him to become an instructor).

He got out of bed, and went to his closet, pulling out a black tank top and matching leggings. He took them to the bathroom, and hung them up as he showered.

Once he’d showered and got changed, he went back to his closet, pulling out a red MIT hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants. He slipped them on over his dance wear. It was cold outside.

He grabbed his bag, and put some red and blue fluffy socks (courtesy of Tony: he saw the Spider themed socks in Target and could NOT resist) and some white ballet flats inside.

He rummaged around in his closet for a black box, which he put into his bag too. It contained his current pointe shoes, toe pads, toe spacers, tape, a needle and thread and a type of glue called hot stuff.

Some of the students were moving on to en pointe, which meant the beginning of today’s session would consist of pointe shoe care and maintenance.

Normally, males wouldn’t go on pointe, but he often starred in his ballet schools productions, which required him to go on pointe.

He dug through his closet again, and pulled out a pair of new shoes (his were almost dead), and a health kit. It just consisted of some gels and creams to help with aches.

He moved to his bedside drawers and opened the first drawer, pulling out his Thera-band, tennis ball and roller – all the things he used to stretch.

He stretched a little bit, mostly his legs and arms – he’d properly stretch in the studio.

He sat on his bed, slipping on his Bloch Warm Up boots to keep his feet warm.

He looked at his alarm clock again. 5:48 am.

He’d better leave now – he had to get there before the students, and the subway took just under half an hour on a good day.

He took a piece of paper and a purple (sure, why not?) pen from his desk, and scribbled a note to the inhabitants of the tower, who were looking after him for the summer holidays.

He left it on the desk and asked Friday to tell the Avengers about it when they asked where he was.

He grabbed some keys that lay in his desk – the keys to the studio – and grabbed a folder from his desk (the syllabus for the dancers).

He walked up to the communal floor, where the kitchen was, and grabbed a granola bar for after class, a huge water bottle he used for classes and training and a packet of chocolate pop tarts (not the most healthy, let him live) for breakfast, before heading out the door and walking to the subway.

It wasn’t until he was on the subway that he got a chance to eat his pop tarts, and even then, he could only eat one. He took out the black box and opened it, and began sewing his almost-dead shoes. He liked doing this – listening to an audio book on the subway as he molded his shoes to his feet. It was soothing for him, a way to escape his haywire life.

He got to the studio in about 10 minutes. He was feeling good. He began stretching and rolling his muscles, using the Thera-band to stretch his legs and the tennis ball to roll his back. After his stretches, he did a warm up at the bar.

 _6:49 am_. His classes would be here shortly.

He moved his stuff over to the corner, where the computer was for playing music. He did all the things he usually did before a class – prepare the music, take off his sweats, put on his flat’s, talk to the other instructors.

_6:59 am._

Eh, he’d let them in early.

He opened the door, and was greeted with a few kids, a few adults, the youngest of them 11. Said eleven year old exclaimed when she saw Peter, the had become friends quite early in her dancing career and she enjoyed his classes the most.

The students filed in, he greeted each of them by name as they shuffled towards the side of the room to begin stretching. They had five minutes before the class started to stretch. That was the rules.

A few minutes later, he saw, from the corner of his eye, five people shuffle in awkwardly. These must be the new people Madame was talking about. After he’d finished what he was doing on the computer, he pulled the folder from his bag, and looked up at the people standing near the door.

And he broke out into a devilish grin.

Standing before him was Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton.

Steve, Sam and Clint were standing there awkwardly, as it they didn’t want to be there. Tony was beaming, as was Natasha.

Normally, he’d be anxious, nervous and embarrassed, but… he wasn’t.

He was the teacher.

This was his domain.

And he could bully the Avengers if he wanted to. Except Natasha.

You never bully Natasha Romanov.

He allowed them some moments to stretch before he addressed the class.

“Morning everyone. I know most of you are moving on to pointe work, so we’re going to spend a little bit preparing the shoes and going over maintenance,” He said. The dancers began sitting, spaced out on the floor with their own shoe kits.

Peter sat down in front of them all, a mirror behind him. He smirked at Tony, who smirked back, and started showing people how do tend to their shoes.

“Okay so,” He said, his pointe shoes in his hands, “everyone takes care of their shoes differently, but it all follows the basic stuff. So,” He put the shoes on the floor, and stopped to take a look at everyone. “The first thing you need to do is sew it, but we’re gonna skip this step because those who are going on pointe today should’ve done it last night, and if they didn’t well…” He shrugged his shoulders, “Sucks to be you, I guess.”

The students laughed, Tony shaking his head.

“Okay, the next thing we need to do is pop the box. The box is the part of the shoe that allows you to stand on your toes, and you do this so you can get more flexibility in your feet inside your shoes, because you need to have both flexibility and stability.”

He stood up from where he was sitting, and placed the shoe under his heel, until he heard a ‘pop’ sound. The room echoed with this sound as the students followed his lead.

Tony watched with amazement as Peter continued to talk about flexibility within the shoe, breaking the soles and such.

“Okay, now, we have to bang them.”

Steve’s gaze moved from the floor in boredom to Peter in embarrassment. His cheeks went red, and Peter saw this, his eyes widening as he realized what was going through Steve’s head.

“Oh my god, Steve,” He said, pointing at Steve and wheezing with laughter. The other students laughed when he saw his face as well, some of them going Stark-White (heh) when they saw who was there.

“What I mean is,” He explained after regaining his composure, “When you’re dancing with pointe shoes, they can be quite,” He hit the shoes softly on the floor, yet the sound was loud, and echoed slightly, “Loud. So, we bang the shoes against the wall, to get rid of the sound to make us seem more graceful. Plus, it can be quite distracting.”

He hit the pointe shoes at the wall repeatedly, the students following soon after. Natasha took her pair, and stood right next to Peter ad she banged her shoes.

“You’re doing great Паук,” she whispered.

“Thanks,” He said genuinely.

Eventually, everyone sat down again, and Peter went over the basics of care for the feet under the shoes, and Tony listened in amazement as Peter went over toe pads and spacers, and cracked jokes which made everyone laughed.

The students who were able to wear pointe shoes put them on, Peter and Natasha included. The rest put on ballet flats, although Sam was reluctant to.

After the pointe shoe maintenance, it was time for some actual dancing.

“Okay, so,” He said, clapping his hands together, “I know some of you are training for auditions and such, but today we’re gonna take it easy, okay? You all have been working so hard, so we’re going to do some easy routines and moves from the syllabus.”

“Plus,” He stated, as an afterthought, “We have some guests today,” he gestured to the Avengers at the back of the room, “and Cap is really old so we’re gonna be nice to him.”

The older ones rolled their eyes and snorted, the younger ones giggled. The Avengers nodded and agreed, except Cap, who insisted he was only 32.

He walked over to the laptop and cued up the music ready, then went back and addressed the class again.

“So, this first routine is called _tendùs, glisse’s and battements._ It prepares you for another exercise called _glissade devants and derriere_ , and helps your footwork if you struggle with that. So, first, your feet are in third and your arms are in second,” He paused, allowing the dancers to move their appendages into the positions, “You point your front foot in front of you, on the floor. That’s a Tendu. Then you Tendu to the side of you and bring it back. Then, you do that again, but lifting your foot slightly off the ground, that’s a glisse. And to the side,” He said, showing them.

“Now is where it differs. You do the same thing, but move your leg so its level with your hips, like this-“ he showed them, his leg swinging into a right angle. Tony balked, and tried to copy, but his leg wouldn’t go that high, or that straight. “Then, you move your inside hand up like this,” He did so, his thin fingers graceful and beautiful, like a dancer. “We do this so when you go do your exams, you’ll do it on a bar. The hand lift shows your not depending on the bar to balance-“

“Excuse me, Peter, why are we not doing it on a bar then?” Clint said, snarky.

“It’s _Monsieur_ , actually. And we’re doing it on the floor so that it’s easier to transition to the bar, and you don’t depend on it that much, _Barton_ ,” He shot back, with equally as much sass. Steve fell over, laughing.

“Anyway, after you lift your inside hand, you battements to your side, then drop your hands.”

They went through many routines, _èchappè sautè, preparation for pirrouette, pirouettes, glissades, (that was funny, watching Sam and Clint fumble over tendu, back, jump, plie, back foot tendu, back, jump, plie, and change feet, change feet, change feet.)_

The class ended at three, when the grouchy caretaker ushered them out of the studio.

The last child left, Peter waved goodbye, and the Avengers smiled at him.

“You could’ve given me a heads up,” He said, as Tony ruffled his curls.

“Why would we do that?” Sam asked, Peter giving a huff in response as he pulled on his MIT jumper.

“You killed it though, Паук, “ Nat smiled.

“I know I did. Ballet is my playground.”

“You should get that on a t-shirt.”

(On his birthday, a couple of weeks later, he did get a new pair of pointe shoes from Nat, and a shirt that said ‘Ballet is my playground’ from Sam.)

**Author's Note:**

> The moral of this story - you never should bully Natasha Romanoff.
> 
> Some of the French I may have spelled wrong sorry lmao
> 
> Pronunciations:
> 
> Tendu: t-on-doo  
> Battements: bad-mon-t-on-s  
> Glisse: gl-ee-s-ay  
> Glissade: gl-ee-s-ade  
> Deviant: de-v-ant  
> Derriere: de-r-ee-air  
> Pirrohette: pi-rr-o-ette
> 
> The rest I cant remember,,, give me a break I've been in quarentine for so long okay I just want to go back to my ballet school


End file.
